


Burned but Unbroken

by spikylizardwithacape



Category: My Hero Academia
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Description of burns, Forgive Me, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, My Hero Academia - Freeform, Protective Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor's A+ Parenting, bnha au, boko no hero academia - Freeform, child Todoroki shouto, idk how to tag, wing fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23264635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikylizardwithacape/pseuds/spikylizardwithacape
Summary: Todoroki Shouto not only inherits his parents’ fire and ice quirks, but his grandmother’s wing quirk also makes an appearance.Endeavor goes to far in Shouto’s training one day and the 5 year old boy barely escapes with his life. In a darker part of the city, he runs into the underground pro hero Eraserhead and things turn out for the better.Aizawa only wonders how his life will change with a child to care for.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 127





	1. Escape to Someone Better

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted fic and I hope you readers enjoy it. I’m a slow writer so updates won’t be adhered to a schedule. I will provide a picture of Shouto incase my descriptions don’t do it justice. Constructive criticism is okay but please refrain from flames. Thank you!

Glass shards sliced his face and arms as Shouto crashed through one of the few windows in the training room. He howled in pain as half his body burned so horribly it felt like he was freezing to death, white and hot. His left-wing alight with more pain as his father grabs for him with an angry shout, yanking out almost half of his red feathers.

The cold wind hits his face as his instincts kick in and propel him through the air at high speeds. He has no idea where he is going but all he knows is that he needs to getaway. Back behind him is only pain. Shouto needs to get away as fast as possible. The burns covering half his face, chest, left-wing and arm are making it very difficult to think properly. And with his wing, both burned and missing feathers, his flight is less than stellar.

He can barely see through the tears cascading down his face and can hardly breathe through the lump in his throat. Shouto’s chest constricts with the tightness of the burns making it even harder to take deep breaths needed for flight. It’s dark out, he just now realized and buildings are flying past him as he heads in an unknown direction. The buildings up ahead are smaller and there are fewer lights, the air also smells weird.

Shouto tires and his damaged wing is having to flap twice as much as his white one and it’s beginning to become difficult to stay in the air. The small boy drops a few meters from the air and tries gliding from building to building, scraping his claws across the hard stone surfaces. His feet still hurt whenever he miscalculates and skids across the rooftops but his fluffy socks help cushion the landings. His red and white bird tail fanned out to its max also helps maneuver through the night sky.

He’s been flying for what seems like forever and Shouto is starting to get dizzy when his injured wing gives out and he plummets to the gravely surface of a gray building. The boy skids and rolls a few meters before coming to a stop. The landing aggravates his burns and they begin to sting and bleed even worse than before. New cuts and scrapes sting on his face, hands, elbows, and knees.

Shouto wheezes and tries to get up but collapses under the weight of pain and exhaustion. He struggles to roll himself onto his back where the burns aren't as bad and stare up at the stars. He can’t see very many due to the city lights, and pollution doesn’t help either, but he traces them with his uninjured eye and breaths. The cold wind nips at his nose and brushes through his hair in a semblance of calmness.

He must have laid there for no more than a few minutes before a dark figure drops down from the sky. Shouto startles with a shriek and scurries up and away from the taller figure which painfully pulls at his burns. He can see blood beading on his left arm. He sobs and wraps his wings around himself for a semblance of protection, similar to a blanket. The figure he deems a man holds his hands up and crouches down closer to his level. He is cloaked in darkness but the boy can see a long white scarf loosely wrapped around the man’s neck and shoulders.

“It’s alright, I'm not going to hurt you, I'm here to help.” The man’s voice is deep and quiet and his movements are slow which Shouto is grateful for. The boy isn’t sure what he would do if this man wanted to hurt him. Then the man’s last words click in the little boy’s mind. “Help? Like a hero?” His voice is grating on his throat and he reaches up to scratch his neck but pulls back with a hiss of pain when his claws scrape against burnt and raw skin.

The man slowly makes his way forward, his shoes scattering gravel across the roof. “Yes, I’m an underground pro hero. Not much of the public knows about me but you can call me Eraserhead.” The boy’s teary brown eye lights up with hope and he slowly unfurls his wings. Shouto slowly inches forward, his wings still puffed up in fear and sits down across from the hero. Eraserhead sits down as well with a sigh.

“Since I gave you my name can you tell me yours?” The boy hesitates for only a moment before speaking up. “Shouto.” The hero smiles but it fades quickly when he asks the next question. “How did you get hurt?” The boy visibly clams up and shakes his head.

Eraserhead sighs and asks another question. “Can you come with me to the hospital? I would treat your burns myself but your injuries are past my medical knowledge.” Shouto hums for a moment and looks back up at the man. “Safe?” Eraserhead nods and parrots back the word. Shouto nods before passing out cold into the man’s comforting embrace.

________________++++________________

Why could he never have a normal quiet night of patrol? For the most part, tonight was oddly quiet with almost no disturbances other than a break-in or two. It was a Friday night, technically Saturday morning, and the man was hoping to wrap this nights’ patrol up fast so he could finally go home and start grading his students' papers. He doesn’t find particular joy in doing so, but the faster he finishes them the faster he can get much-needed sleep.

The night air was cold and he regrets not grabbing an extra layer or two. Aizawa hates the cold. He’d much rather be back home where it’s warm, quiet, and familiar with its three resident cats. They were a handful but he loved them dearly. Speaking of dearly loved, his husband Hizashi decided now was a good time as any to call him. Perched on a telephone pole, the underground hero reached into his pocket for his vibrating phone. He always left it on vibrate when he was on patrol. He glanced at the clock which read 3:30; around the time Hizashi’s radio show ended and clicked call.

“SHOOOOOUUUUUTTTTTAAAAA!!!!!!!”

Holding his phone an arm's length away still didn’t do much against his partners yelling. Wishing his quirk worked through his phone, Aizawa brought it back to his ear. “Could you refrain from yelling while I’m on patrol.” Aizawa huffed. He could hear his husband’s sheepish smile from here. “Sorry, Shouta but I’ve missed you! I’m headed home now and I expect you to be there soon too. Oh! And I’m planning on making cashew chicken for dinner.”

Aizawa smiled and had a retort ready for the loud hero when something a few buildings over caught his eye. The tired man squinted over at it, trying to make out what the movement was when his husband’s voice came back through the phone. “You good there Aizawa? You went quiet there for a second.”

“I’m fine. Something just caught my eye. Can’t tell what it is from here so I’m going to get a closer look.” He could hear rustling over the phone. “Alright, Shouta. Just be careful. I’ll be home in ten.” Aizawa hung up with a quick goodbye and pocketed his phone. He reached for his yellow goggles around his neck and fastened them over his eyes.

It didn't take more than a couple of moments to swing from building to building in pursuit of whoever was on the rooftop and when the worryingly small figure came into focus, Aizawa’s breath caught. A small child was laid out atop the cement building and the pro could tell from a building over that the child was horribly injured.

Aizawa dropped down from the fire escape from the adjacent building. The child, which he could tell had some type of bird-related quirk, jerked away in fear with a choked scream. The little boy had half his face burned away. Where his left eye should have been, a gaping black hole stared back at him. The child’s remaining eye was blown wide with fear and pain. Red hair was burned down to dark peach fuzz while his white hair hung over his brown eye. His ears were long and resembled butterfly wings. There was a blue gem attached to his ear lobe like a teardrop. His left ear was partially burned away and was missing its gem. The boy’s shirt was mostly burned away revealing burns down the child's neck and chest, reaching down past the boy’s left elbow like a sleeve. His left-wing was burned as well and was missing many of its feathers. He had sharp twisted fangs poking out of his mouth. The child had claws on both his hands and feet. Gold on the left, cyan blue on the right. His little toe-claws poked through his socks. The boy was also covered in scratches and brightly colored band-aids.

All in all, this child was in much need of medical attention but his first priority was to calm the terrified boy down. He took off his goggles and put his hand up, crouching down to his level and smiled kindly. “It’s alright, I'm not going to hurt you, I'm here to help.” The boy calmed slightly, peeking through his wings at the taller man. Recognition flashed across the child’s face. “Help? Like a hero?”

The kid’s voice sounded painful and the boy hissed when he reached for his neck. “Yes, I’m an underground pro hero. Not much of the public knows about me but you can call me Eraserhead.” The boy’s eye light up and he slowly crawls forward, wings still puffed up and sits down in front of the hero.

Aizawa sits down as well and crosses his legs. He’s surprised the boy is still conscious of the injuries he sustained, adrenaline must be working to block out most of the pain. He has to try and gain this kid's trust fast so he can rush him to the nearest hospital. “Since I gave you my name can you tell me yours?” The child answers around the blue claw he is currently chewing on. “Shouto.” His answer is small and quiet and he doesn't give a last name so Aizawa doesn’t ask. It’s not a top priority.

Aizawa hopes Shouto can answer his next question. “How did you get hurt?” He believes he was speaking in a gentle voice but the boy still clammed up and wouldn’t answer. The underground hero sighs and hopes Shouto will agree to his next question. “Can you come with me to the hospital? I would treat your burns myself but your injuries are past my medical knowledge.”

Shouto hums in thought before looking back up at him. “Safe?” Aizawa’s heartaches as he smiles. “Yes, you’re safe with me.” The kid then promptly passes out in his arms.


	2. Small Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aizawa stays with Shouto in the hospital and gets an unexpected call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. I meant to post this yesterday but I got sidetracked. There will be a pic in this chapter and 2 more in the 3rd. I would have posted them with this chapter but they fit better with the 3rd. This chapter is calmer than the first but it was needed for the story.

Shouto slowly came back to consciousness from the best sleep he’s had in a long time. He doesn't feel like opening his eyes just yet though. Shouto can feel the weight of a blanket on top of him and a soft bed underneath him. So that rules out being at home as his futon is not nearly this comfortable. He twitches a bit and something to his left makes a noise. Maybe a chair creaking? Shouto’s not sure but when his hand is enveloped in a larger one, his eyes pop open. Or at least his right one does. He can’t see out of his left eye. His eye burns for a few moments before they adjust to the light.

There was beeping to his right coming from a white box. Colorful lines zig-zagged across the black screen. Shouto tries to turn to see who’s holding his hand but his neck lights up in pain so he settles for staring at the ceiling. The boy tightens his grip in the other hand. “Who…are?” He can’t finish, his throat hurts too much. The figure to his left leans over into his line of sight. “Hey, Shouto. How are you feeling?” the man’s kind but tired eyes gaze back at him.

Oh, Eraserhead is holding his hand. “H-hello.” His voice is still rough and Eraserhead leans back out of view but doesn't let go of his hand. The hero comes back and lifts a glass of water to his lips. The boy drinks slowly and drains half the cup before pulling away. Eraserhead puts the cup back on the table beside the bed. 

“How about I move to your right side so you can see me better?” Shouto doesn’t really want to let go of his hand but he agrees with a nod and let's go. Eraserhead stands up, grabs the plastic blue chair he’d been using, and carries it to the other side of the bed. There is less room there, only a foot or two between the bed and wall. The underground hero sets the chair down and eases back into it and resumes to hold Shouto’s hand. This time his right one. The window over Eraserheads shoulder is open and sunlight warms his skin. 

“It’s day?” The tired man hums an affirmative, rubbing his thumb over the back of the boy’s hand. Shouto stares back at him. “Why am I here?” The hero filled him in on how he had found Shouto atop a building at night, covered in terrible burns and was taken to the nearest hospital for treatment. “I would just like to ask you If there was anyone I could contact for you? A parent or family member?” 

Before Shouto can answer, Eraserhead’s phone vibrates. He takes it out and inspects the caller ID. He lets out a long sigh before picking up. “Do not yell please.” The man cuts off the person on the other line’s mid loud greeting of ‘Shouta.’ 

__________________++++__________________

Aizawa sat holding the child’s small clawed hand while his husband screamed in his ear. “You didn’t show up at home! Where are you? Are you okay? Did something happen?” Aizawa huffed in slight annoyance. “If I could get a word in edgewise I could tell you.” Hizashi stopped his barrage of questions and waited for Aizawa to continue. 

“I’m at the Musutafu Hospital, and before you freak out, I’m fine. I’m here with someone else.” Aizawa gazes down at the small child holding his hand who was currently picking at the bandages on his face. The hero squeezes the kid’s hand to get his attention and when the boy’s brown reflective eye meets his, he shakes his head. Shouto puts his hand back down on the blanket and begins to pick at that instead. Aizawa’s just glad the kid didn’t rip out the IV in the back of his left hand.

“Who then? Kayama?” How was he supposed to explain to his husband that he had temporary custody of a child? “No, I haven’t seen her since yesterday in the UA staffroom. I’m actually here with a kid I found last night.” Hizashi paused before exploding. “A kid! I’m coming over immediately, what’s the kid’s name? Are they alright?” 

Aizawa smiled at the worry his husband had for a child he'd never met. “His name is Shouto and I found him last night on a roof with severe burns across his face and body. He’s doing okay now.” Hizashi seemed to ponder something for a moment. “Can you put me on speaker? I wanna talk to the kid before I show up.” Aizawa winced. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Hisashi huffed. “I’ll be quiet, I promise.” 

Aizawa answered by pulling the phone away from his face and clicking the speakerphone button. “Alright, you’re on speaker.” Aizawa looked over to Shouto who really looked like he wanted to ask a million questions but was keeping quiet, even though his curiosity shown through his eyes.

The speaker crackled to life and his husband’s voice came through at a reasonable volume. “Hey, little listener! I’m Shouta’s husband Hizashi, and I can’t wait to meet you! I’m heading over to the hospital now so I can see you and Shouta. Do you want me to bring anything for you?” Shouto looked confused but answered nonetheless, after a second of hesitation. “What do you mean?” Hizashi cooed over the phone. “Aww, you sound young. How old are you kid?

“I’m five and a half.” Aizawa hummed to himself. Shouto was small for his age, which in any other circumstance wouldn’t have worried him. He could have been born premature or had inherited genes that made him small in stature. It could even have to do with his quirk. But Aizawa suspected it had something to do with his home life. 

If the kid was attacked and burned by a villain he would have said something. Especially after he told Shouto he was a hero. But he clammed up. And the look on his face. He’s seen that look on other children he’s found on the street who have run away from home. A severe burn couldn’t be the first offense against the child. It had to have been an ongoing thing If the kid refused to say who hurt him. 

Hisashi continued to talk with the kid, which seemed to keep his mind off his wounds since Shouto finally stopped pulling at his bandages. “I was thinking of bringing you a book or a toy on my way there. Hospital rooms can get boring pretty quickly. And going by what Shouta said, It sounds like you might be there for a while. So, do you have any suggestions?” 

Shouto seemed to ponder this for a while before responding quietly. “Um, I used to have an All Might figure that my mama got me for my birthday a few years ago.” Aizawa could see Hisashi’s smile from here. “Action figure All Might it is! I'll be there in half an hour. See you later little listener!”

Aizawa clicked the speaker button and returned the phone to his ear. “I’ll see you in a bit.” Aizawa said. “Of course! Want me to get me anything for you?” Aizawa hummed in thought. “A coffee would be nice. All they have here is the cheap stuff.” Hizashi laughed. “One cinnamon mocha coming right up! See you in a bit, love ya.” Aizawa smiled fondly. “Love you too.”

Aizawa pocketed his phone and looked up at Shouto, who was picking at the gauze on his face, again. “Shouto you need to stop messing with your bandages.” Shouto looked up at him with a pouty look on his face that the hero could tell the child was trying to hide. “But they really itch.” 

“That means your burns are healing. They will itch for a while, but scratching them will only make it worse.” Aizawa paused. “Also, during my call, you looked like you wanted to ask a few questions. Do you want to ask them now?” Shouto picked at his claws, not looking up from his hands, he quietly responded. 

“Who’s Shouta?” Shouto asks from underneath the large blanket on the hospital bed. Aizawa smirked. “My hero name is Eraserhead, but my real name is Aizawa Shouta. You can call me either name, doesn’t matter to me.”

This time Shouto met his eyes. “Before the nice man called you, you asked If I could call someone?” Oh right, Aizawa completely forgot about their earlier conversation. “Yes, is there anyone I can call for you? A parent or a family member?” A look of worry flashed across Shouto’s face. “I don’t know.” Aizawa tried a different approach. “Your last name. Can you tell me what it is?” 

“Todoroki.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Archive of our own is annoying as all hell. I never realized how difficult it is to edit your works without things getting deleted or the spacing between my paragraphs being deleted and making a mess. Getting pictures to show up is also a chore. I've got a crappy computer so that could also be a reason. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope to write quite a few chapters for this but I’m more of an artist than a writer so this will take a while. Hope you had a good read!


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